Is This a Nudist Colony?
by WizMonCruWil
Summary: I noticed there are not any detailed romances between Marty and Rory, beyond one-shots or short fics implying one in the future. I decided to write a romance between these two. From Jews and Chinese Food (5.15) on, the timeline will drastically change. What if Rory and Marty didn't go to dinner with Logan? There are some cute Luke-Rory father-daughter moments as well. Please, enjoy
1. Chapter 1: Naked Guy

**Chapter 1: Naked Guy**

In the middle of Rory's first night at Yale, she got up to go to the restroom down the hall. Throwing a light blue bathrobe over her pajama tap and drawstring pants, she padded out into the hallway in her slippers. Just then, something caught her eye.

In a doorway across the hall, a body lay prone and sprawled. A young man without a stitch of clothing on. He was even snoring. Glancing about and finding no one else, Rory tentatively approached. She reached out a hand, but drew back, studying him for a moment. She had never seen a naked man before - not even her own father, the few times he had stayed in Stars Hollow. She elected to tickle the stranger with the string of her robe to rouse him. He awoke, his eyes working hard to focus in on her.

"Hi."

"Hi," she replied, a little wary.

"I'm on the floor."

"You were sleeping."

"I have no clothes on."

"No. You don't," she shook her head tightly.

"I'm on the floor. I have no clothes on. And you're a girl. So I must be..."

"... on the wrong floor," Rory supplied.

"Oh, boy."

"What's your room?"

"I think... up?" Clearly, he had been drinking. Or gotten a nasty bump on the head. Either way - "Are we on the first floor?"

"Yes."

"Then up. Any idea how long I've been here?"

"Nope."

"So you have no idea how many people have walked by while I...?"

Rory gave a helpless shrug. "Nope. Sorry."

"Great. Now for the rest of my time at Yale, I'm gonna be The Naked Guy." At least he had a sense of humor.

"I'm sorry."

"And you know what's great? Tomorrow, when the nickname The Naked Guy starts spreading around campus like wildfire, I'm gonna be in my third hour of throwing up," he groaned.

"Well, it's been really quiet out here for a while now, so... there's a chance that no one but me has seen you yet," Rory tried to be helpful.

"Oh yeah?"

"I promise I won't say anything. And if there's a chance that you could refrain from being naked in a hallway at the next party, then... there's a chance you might get a completely different nickname like... The Never Naked Guy."

"You're a very kind person," the young man started to rise.

"Wait! Hold on!" Rory ordered before she got an eyeful of... stuff, which had thankfully up till now had been covered by the floor. "You can borrow this." Turning her back, she shook the bathrobe loose from her shoulders and felt him take it gratefully from her. She remained that way as he dressed, biting her lip awkwardly.

"Hey, weren't you in my Japanese fiction class today?" He asked her.

"Yeah, that's right."

"I thought so. Hi..." And Rory turned back to face him. "I'm... Marty."

She giggled. "Rory."

"I won't remember that tomorrow."

"That's... perfectly understandable."

"So I should probably try and find my room, and... my pants, cause that's where I kept my keys."

"So, pants first," Rory acknowledged.

Marty stumbled past her for the stairwell.

"Night," Rory called after him.

"Yup. I'm officially stupider than my brother," Marty said half to himself.

Rory did not know it then, but she had just met someone who would change her life forever.


	2. Chapter 2: Breakfast Duo

**Chapter 2: The Breakfast Duo**

It was only a couple days later before she saw Marty again. It was in the mess hall on a Saturday morning, and Paris had only woken them both up just in the nick of time, but both girls had had to run to the dining commons in their pajamas before it closed their breakfast hours.

Getting out of line, that's when Rory spotted him, at a table by himself. She recognized his dark curls instantly, and found herself strangely drawn to him. She knew what it was like to be lonely; she had eaten by herself for most of her first year at Chilton.

"Come on, Rory," Paris called over her shoulder.

"I'll... be right there," Rory replied vaguely, as she drifted to Marty's table. Cautiously, she plunked down beside him.

"Hi... Marty."

He jumped, startled, but even after recognizing her as the girl who had saved him in the hall that first night in the dorms, he eyed her warily. "You hesitated."

"Huh?"

"You were thinking of calling me Naked Guy, weren't you?"

"No, I wasn't!" Rory smiled genuinely. "And I thought we didn't want anyone else to know? You might want to keep your voice down." She laughed a little.

Marty still appeared quizzical. " _We_?"

Rory shrugged. "Your secret is my secret. That's what friends do, right?"

It was a bit presumptuous of her, this being only their second time meeting, but in college, especially one as daunting as Yale, everyone needed friends. Paris was fine, but she had her own unique uses. Like keeping her grounded... and sometimes intimidated. And Rory found that, at least in terms of friends who kept her light and happy, she was in short supply.

Marty finally grinned. "Yeah. It's nice to not feel judged."

"Rule Number One of the Breakfast Club, my friend."

"I take it you're Molly Ringwald?"

"Only if you'll be my Anthony Michael Hall," Rory wittily bantered back. "Now all we gotta do is recruit at least three others... Hey, Paris!" she called across the din. "Wanna be our Ally Sheedy?"

Paris frowned. "You deserve an all-day detention just for that reference. Get outta your campy fantasies, Gilmore!"

Rory and Marty both laughed.


	3. Chapter 3: Blonde Interloper

**Chapter 3: Blonde Interloper**

"I mean, I always thought I looked a lot like my Uncle Jerry," Marty was saying as he and Rory got two cups of coffee from the Yale coffee cart, "and, gee, Mom always seemed to like him." He had just finished explaining to his friend how his uncle was actually his biological father, on account of an affair he had with his mother.

"I can't believe this," Rory commiserated. "After all this time, your mother tells you now?"

"My dad looked relieved."

"He did not!"

"I heard him say it."

"That is amazing!"

Marty raised the paper cup to his lips. "So what did you do over the summer?" It was the beginning of their sophomore year, and over the past academic term, Marty and Rory had become really close friends. They found that they shared a common interest in movies, with Marty enjoying Marx Brothers flicks in particular.

But before Rory could answer, a group of boys bumped past them. Being the gentleman, Marty took the initiative to apologize.

"No, seriously, you couldn't see me there?" a guy in a red sweater pompously asked.

The guy in the center, who looked unusually drunk or out of it for late in the morning, focused his faculties as best he could on Marty. "Hey, I know you... wait, wait, don't tell me... I've seen you perform at some..."

"Nighttime repair," the third guy, sporting a thick accent, interjected. Rory could not pinpoint the accent exactly. Was it... British? Australian?

"I've... bartended for you," Marty explained. "For your parties."

"That's right! You have! You're a talented man," the Blonde complimented. "He makes a kick-ass margarita," he sent Rory's way. Marty chuckled it off good-naturedly. "Good to see you again; what's your name?"

"Marty." Then, not wanting to appear rude: "Uh, this is Rory." Rory just nodded tightly, her lips pursed politely.

"Hi. So: assuming your services are still available, your financial situation hasn't changed at all...?"

"Nope."

"Good. OK. I'll give you a call." Blondie clapped Marty on the shoulder. "Where you living now?"

"Branford."

"Oh, excellent - Branford. All right. Good running into you." Logan sauntered away, a girl on one arm, and his laces trailed after him. The guy in the red sweater hung back.

"Excellent shirt." And then, to Rory, "I can see what you see in him."

"Don't be an ass, Colin," Logan threw over his shoulder, prompting his last follower to catch up.

"Me? Never. I'm a friend to all people, large and very, very small."

As soon as they were gone, Marty turned back to Rory. "I kind of hate those guys." He seemed to be almost apologizing for their boorish behavior.

"Really? Can't see why," thereby letting him know that she stood by her friend.


	4. Chapter 4: Waltz in the Snow

**Chapter 4: Waltz in the Snow**

It was wintertime on the Yale campus. Rory had to appreciate the glee some students felt upon seeing a blizzard rush through. They had to be out-of-state freshies. Growing up in Connecticut, Rory had been groomed to expect school no matter how high the drifts got; she couldn't remember the last time she had had a snow day in Stars Hollow.

Today was no exception. Not a single of her classes for the day had been canceled, though she had been hoping for at least one professor to call their lecture off. Passing her favorite reading tree on the lawn, she spotted a familiar head of black hair shuffling in her direction, under a wool cap.

"Marty!"

Marty glanced up and brightened at the sight of his friend. "Hey, Rory!"

"Did you still have lecture with Dr. Rainey?"

"Unfortunately," he huffed. "Yalies can't expect breaks from Nor'easters. But that's about the only thing I can appreciate about them. I hate the snow."

Rory grinned. "Really? I love it! My mother can smell snow."

Marty's brow furrowed. "What? She can... _smell_ it?"

"Mom says that when it snows, something good is coming. Like one year, it snowed the day I took my first steps. Sookie baked me an entire cake."

"What's a Sookie?"

"My mom's best friend. She's a chef at the Inn I grew up at." She beamed, sticking out her tongue to catch the falling snowflakes. Inspired, she held out her hands. "Dance with me!"

"You kidding? It's freezing!"

"And dancing is exercise. It'll warm you up!" Taking him in her arms, Rory guided Marty's hand to rest on the small of her back, while hers settled on his shoulder. The pair began a slow waltz underneath Rory's favorite reading tree. She thought it cute when she caught him glancing at his feet, making sure not to step on her toes.

Rory wasn't sure when it happened, but she soon found herself resting her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. She shook her head of the reverie, white powder going every which way, and unexpectedly stepped out of the embrace. "I... I think I'd better go... warm up. I have some reading to do."

"You sure?" Marty seemed to not want to see her go. "I feel warmer already. You were right; dancing does warm you up."

"Paris will be wondering why I haven't returned from class..." Rory excused, suddenly feeling flustered. "Thanks for the dance, Marty. I'll see you..." And she hurried for her dorm, not noticing the hurt in Marty's eyes.

* * *

Most nights, Rory could tune out Paris's excessive snoring. She had learned to tolerate it for well over a year of living together. But this evening, it only compounded Rory's struggles to fall asleep, as she tossed and turned in bed.

Something... _charged_ had happened that day under the reading tree. Rory did not know what it was, but she had her suspicions, and it left her even further confused as to how she felt. She tried to picture Logan, whom she had already grown closer to despite his arrogant treatment at their first meeting, and tentatively dipped one finger inside herself.

But despite her best strokings, Logan's face refused to fully materialize. Instead, a shapeless, nameless face hovered in her consciousness as she furiously masturbated, finally cumming with a tiny whimper, staining her pajama bottoms. Quietly cleansing herself and changing so as to avoid waking Paris, Rory willed herself into a uncertain sleep.


	5. Chapter 5: Fireworks

**Chapter 5: Fireworks**

As soon as the door closed behind Logan, Rory rounded on Marty. Yes, she could see how Logan had been insensitive to her friend and treated him like a third wheel, and thus, she had felt pressure to stay behind and keep watching Groucho Marx movies. But couldn't Marty have at least tried to be more easygoing? Eating out was something that neither of them had done in a long time; they were due for a bit of a monetary indulgence.

Meanwhile, Marty was still perched on the couch, staring back at Rory almost blankly. "You can go, you know," he prompted. "Far be it from me to stop you."

Rory huffed. "I'm not going unless you're coming with me. Why couldn't you have just said to Logan that we could come?"

"Oh, so this is _my_ fault?" Marty snapped, rising up off the couch. "You can't have it all, Rory! At certain points in life, you have to make a choice. And it's clear what choice you wanted to make!"

Rory put her hands on her hips. "And what choice was that?"

"To go with Huntzberger. You like him! Don't deny it!"

Rory scoffed. "Oh, I'm not going out with Logan!" she snapped. Admittedly, she had had a brief crush on the blond womanizer, culminating in him kissing her at her grandparents' wedding renewal. But it had been a passing fancy, one that had quickly soured when the bastard tried to grope her.

Now, Rory got right in Marty's face. "The trouble with you is you're jealous!"

Really, she didn't have a basis for this accusation, and a part of her didn't believe it herself. And she knew that even if Marty was jealous of Logan, he didn't have any good reason to be. Still, she knew the comment would get Marty riled up and perhaps rightly so. Logan had always treated his go-to bartender like dirt.

"Jealous?" Marty growled. "Of what?" and it was a point well taken. "Why don't you stop being so naive and annoying?"

Rory followed after him into her room. "I hate you, Marty!"

He spun to face her. "You don't mean that."

"I _do_ mean it!" and she came quite close, so they were nose-to-nose. "I hate you! I hate y-"

His hands braced her shoulders, and his mouth was suddenly on hers, slanting, consuming. Rory stiffened with a tiny squeak. The coffee cup she was holding slipped from her fingers and crashed to the floor, exploding and coating the hardwood with brown liquid. And then -

Rory _moaned_. Her knees buckled under her as she swooned, so that Marty had to clutch her waist in his embrace. Rory felt her arms encircle Marty's neck without her brain telling them to, and she gasped a little as the kiss deepened. It was a kiss that knocked the breath out of her mouth and her lungs.

Still involved, the pair staggered back into, and then toppled over, Rory's bed, with Rory straddling her friend in a very compromising position. The kiss was broken at last, and Rory gaped at Marty, looking scandalized.

Marty was blushing beet red, his head ducked shyly. Rory made no moves to rise off of Marty; in fact, she didn't appear aware of her position. Lifting himself off the mattress, Marty captured Rory's lips in another kiss and rolled them both over so that she was now on her back.

"I want to make love to you," he whispered. "May I?"

Wordlessly, Rory nodded. She had only ever been with Dean, but here was a man who clearly cared for her. And... she had to admit her thoughts were muddled. Had been muddled about her friend for a very long time. Strange dreams in this very bed, in which a handsome stranger attended to her. She had always assumed the mysterious figure was Logan, that he explained why she sometimes would touch herself in the night. But was it possible...?

Marty reverently undid Rory's red blouse, then her bra, before shucking his sweater over his head. Rory felt her knees, her thighs spread apart and she allowed Marty to nestle between them. Rising her bum off the mattress, she shimmied her panties down to her ankles. Throughout the whole exchange, the couple's eyes remained locked, neither one of them saying a word. Tilting his head, Marty kissed Rory and she sighed as she relaxed into it. At the same moment, she felt him slide into her.

It was clear he was inexperienced. He shifted inside of her slowly, and his movements seemed uncertain. Rory appreciated how careful and tender he was. Folding her legs about his waist, she encouraged him and he soon began to thrust more confidently. All the while, Rory fisted the bedclothes in her hand until her knuckles turned white, she threw her head back into the pillow, her body flopping around on the bed as the pleasure overtook her -

A key in the lock of the front door outside made them both freeze, the creaking protest of the bed halting. "Hello?" Paris's voice called. "Rory?"

Rory's head snapped back to Marty's. "You have thirty seconds to get your act together," she whispered.

"Yes, ma'am," Marty didn't argue. He began to thrust with more wild abandon, clapping a hand over Rory's mouth to muffle her moans.

"Uhhh... Ohhhh... Uhmmmmmm... Mmmmmm..."

The warmth built and built and built, the dam that was Rory's insides straining to accommodate it. Her walls clenched -

"MMMMMM!" Rory whimpered into Marty's palm as her entire body seized and then wilted, her legs freezing around Marty's middle as if they had a sudden cramp. Another weak thrust, two, and then with a gargling grunt, Marty collapsed on top of her, ejaculating into her.

As she came down from her high, Rory's body violently twitched. Marty seemed to be shuddering, convulsing from the sudden chill in the room. With a tiny whine, Rory squirmed beneath him and he finally rolled off her. The afterglow prompted Rory to drag her friend closer, envelop in his warmth.

"Wow..." her voice slurred. Her vision became blurry. Within moments, she was asleep.

* * *

The sunlight streaming in from her private room awoke Rory the next morning. Humming in pleasure, the young Gilmore rolled over to find...

Her dear friend snoring away, facing her, and stark naked.

The memories of the previous night rushing back to her, Rory shrank away in fear, hastily throwing on a bathrobe to cover her own naked form and retreating to the common room. It was still early, Paris would still be asleep.

She had slept with her best friend. Her best guy friend anyway. After he had up and kissed her. And she had kissed him back. Rory's hand flew to her mouth, as if she could still feel, taste, Marty's presence there. What, oh what, would happen now? There was no way they could come back from this, back to the way they were before.

And the most terrifying thought of all was: did she _want_ to?

A creaking of a door opening made Rory snap her head up, ever so briefly glancing between the door in front and behind her. But it was Marty, not Paris who emerged. And he was still maddeningly naked.

The sight brought Rory back to the night they had first met, when she had found him passed out, hungover and yes, naked, in her hallway. She had given him her bathrobe, the same one she now wore. But unlike that night, she was now seeing everything on full display. Her jaw dropped as she watched Marty's... thing arouse itself before her. In their wild coupling last night, she hadn't had the time to notice its size. It was quite... impressive. And uncircumcised. She chastised herself for the thought.

"You look beautiful," Marty complimented her.

Rory ducked her head to hide the blush. And also to avoid getting an eyeful again. She hugged herself. "Was that your first time?" she asked.

Marty nodded slowly. "For you...?" but the question was weak, as he weighed that no, she probably wasn't a virgin. "That boyfriend... back in your hometown...?"

Rory nodded. She still refused to look at him.

"Please don't doubt this," Marty pleaded, soothed, as he gently approached her. "It's about time we did the deed, and it wasn't wrong. Every friendship faces this question at least once. Some act on it, some don't."

Rory finally raised her eyes to his. "What do we do now?"

"Kiss me," Marty whispered.

Rory's eyes flitted down to his lips, then searched his face in time for Marty to bend and capture her mouth with his.

"Hmmmm..." Rory groaned, and her hands fisted the hairs on his chest. Marty shrugged the bathrobe off her shoulders, so that it pooled in a heap at their feet, as he took her by the waist and pulled her closer.

In that moment, clarity seemed to descend on Rory from above and she yanked him closer still. "I love you!" she whispered into Marty's lips, her voice strangely hoarse, and the words themselves nearly made her weep. Marty trembled in her embrace and she encircled him lovingly. Suddenly, Rory wrenched herself out of the kiss, peppering her lips along his face and jawline. She sank to her knees. Studying his... anatomy with almost bemusement, she bowed her head and took him in her mouth. Curling her fist around the base of his shaft, she began to stroke him there, so that she could feel the foreskin sliding back and forth over the reddened tip inside her maw, the flesh tickling the roof of her mouth. Eyes fluttering closed, she launched herself forward to swallow him whole, her tongue lolling out to lick his entire length. Her free hand brazenly cupped him between his legs, right on his balls, the action reminding her of Finn's cry to "Give them back their balls!". A laugh emanated from her clogged throat at the memory, so that she nearly choked, gagged on Marty's penis as she bore down.

Marty's soft fingers were in her hair, weaving among the brown strands as he stood stiff, his eyes heavenward.

"Rory... Rory..." he crooned. "I'm gonna... cum..."

Her lips curling into a satisfied smile around him, Rory sucked harder.

"Rory!" The torrent came fast and hard, and Rory eagerly gulped down, chugged, every last drop. She finally extracted herself from him, giving Marty one last, parting lick and pressing a kiss to the tip of his head. Standing, she mashed her lips to his in a fiery kiss, prying them open and licking her way into his mouth, so he could taste himself on her tongue. One hand on her bum, Marty hooked her leg to his waist, hoisting her up and she eagerly climbed him like a tree. Their hips locked together, and Rory could feel Marty's genitals brush up against her folds, quickly becoming slick with pre-cum. Were they really going to have sex again?

"All right, Gilmore, get your ass out of bed..." Paris Geller stopped dead in her tracks. Rory and Marty broke apart, their arms still around each other to gape at her in horror.

Rory expected her best girl friend to scream, run from the room. Or perhaps call Doyle and tell him to come right over and practice those self-defense moves on her new paramour. But instead, in classic Paris Geller fashion, the blonde battle-axe's expression softened and she deadpanned:

"Well. Every Disney Princess has to whore themselves out sometime." And with that, she promptly stalked from the dorm.

The door slammed shut onto silence. After a moment, Rory and Marty burst out laughing, and he carried her into her room for another round of lovemaking...


	6. Chapter 6: Where To Turn?

**Chapter 6: Where to Turn?**

It had been yet another night of raucous, frantic lovemaking. The past six weeks had been the happiest of Rory's time at Yale. It was Monday morning, no classes for either of them until well into the afternoon, so they could afford to sleep in.

As the milky vestiges of sleep disappeared from Rory's eyes, she stirred against her boyfriend. Marty was still out cold, and she nearly laughed when she discovered that his mouth was still part-way consuming her breast; he had been particularly fixated on her nipples the previous evening, feasting on them. A bit of drool now ran along her womanly curves. He looked so cute, that Rory felt terrible about possibly waking him up, so she moved as quietly as she could. But even her best efforts could not prevent Marty from rousing.

"What... what's going on?" he slurred, his eyes still heavy with sleep.

"Sssh..." Rory whispered, bending over to tenderly kiss his lips. "Go back to sleep, honey."

"Rory...?" He feebly reached for her. "Don't go..."

Rory giggled and kissed him again. "I have to shower." She slipped on her bathrobe and padded into the common room, then took a right into the suite's bathroom. At least, she had a dorm this year with private bathrooms. Leave it to Paris to find the very best for them on campus.

As she luxuriated in the warm water, Rory felt giddy, lightheaded. The last time she had felt this happy had been, well... her idyllic childhood in Stars Hollow. Growing up with her mom at the Inn. The sex with Marty was amazing...

A thought suddenly struck her. Her period... when was the last time she had it?

Peeking out from behind the shower curtain, she strained to peruse the calendar hung on the back of the bathroom door. The subtle red dot was always in the bottom right-hand corner, anticipated and meticulously plotted in advance for the entire academic term. Someone as sweetly innocent as Marty would not notice the subliminal messaging. Paris Geller would, and did, taking the opportunity to snidely scold Rory for her lack of imagination in color coding.

Rory had no choice but to step out of the shower, leaving the water running, to peer closer. She hadn't been imagining. The most recent red dot was nearly a full week back. A chill, in addition to the cold of the bathroom, sent goosebumps up her skin and she leaped back into the comfort of the warm water. Only this time, she hardly felt it.

She finished quickly, and wrapping a towel around herself, bent under the sink, rummaging for the tests she knew Paris had stored. Rory had been the one to insist they kept a stock on hand, even over Paris's loud objections that she didn't see the necessity, for two very feminist ladies like themselves. That is where Paris's cold realism could be a little... well, unrealistic. Being a feminist didn't mean you always kept your knees firmly closed. And with Doyle constantly flitting in and out, Paris wasn't exactly fooling anyone, no matter how much she might try and deny it.

Rory took the test, as her mother had taught her upon the milestone of her first period. She had been 13 then, and remembered the incident well; Lorelai had skirted on the edge of having a nervous breakdown (likely PTSD flashbacks to her own pregnancy) - so much so, that she had called poor Luke and made _him_ go and buy the tests from Dosse's Market. Rory did not think she would ever again see the Diner owner as red from embarrassment as he had been upon delivery of the box.

And like 20 years earlier with her mother, the test didn't lie to the daughter: she was pregnant. With a girl.

Rory berated herself for her carelessness. If there was one point Lorelai had driven home, if Rory had been taught nothing else, it was to have safe sex until marriage. Rory had remembered the lesson in going to bed with Dean, but he had been her first, so naturally she had been more conscientious. But with Marty... the passion of their affair had left her empty-headed.

The first matter at hand was who she was going to tell. Marty, certainly; he was the father, he had a right to know. But she didn't have the heart to wake him right this minute. Paris... she was Rory's best friend, but that didn't necessarily guarantee that Paris wouldn't scream it from the rooftops like it was some kind of victory. In matters of sexual relations, where Paris was seen as a bit of a cold fish, Rory was seen as almost _too_ pure - she thought back to Paris's Disney Princess comment upon catching her and Marty in the act, and the memory made her chuckle, in spite of herself.

Rory extended her net out beyond Yale (the whole campus would know soon enough, anyway, once she started to show). Telling her grandparents was simply out of the question. Emily would have a fit. She briefly entertained calling Richard on his office line, but running that risk was now too great. Several months ago, maybe she could have made a go of it, but now that her grandparents were reconciled from their estrangement, since the second wedding... Rory shook her head. Her grandfather wouldn't keep a secret like that from his wife, in good conscience. Even if she told just Richard, it would get right back to Emily, and then get right back in turn to Lorelai.

Lorelai... she would have to tell her beloved mother eventually, but the thought of doing so now filled Rory with terror. Emily had all but disowned her daughter upon discovering Rory's existence back in the 1980s; who was to say that the stress of this moment wouldn't prompt a little repetition of history? No, Lorelai could not know until Rory had figured out what the hell to say. Lane? Rory could trust Lane with anything, but there was the off-chance that righteous Mrs. Kim might overhear and go screaming for the hills. That alone could activate the notorious Stars Hollow Rumor Mill, courtesy of Ms. Patty and Babette.

In Rory's mind, that left two people. The first finalist was dismissed out of hand. Her father, Christopher, would be ill-prepared to deal with this news. When presented with a Fight-or-Flight situation, he always chose Flight. And with the recent death of his own dad, he had largely shut himself away from the rest of his family in his grief; Rory hadn't heard from Christopher in weeks. Not since her grandparents' wedding renewal, and that encounter had been less than pleasant, though he had been trying to defend her honor. The thought of being with Logan now made Rory squirm in disgust.

Only one person remained. One person who could be trusted in keeping his mouth shut without alerting the whole town or her grandparents. The possibility of him alerting her mother was there - due to the nature of their relationship, that was the elephant in the room. But, if Rory played her cards right... it was a risk she could afford to take.

The Diner was probably long open by now, so she dialed the familiar number on her cell phone and held it to her ear. It took a couple of rings, but eventually the gruff voice she loved oh so much picked up. The voice of her future stepfather. "Hello?"

"Luke?" Rory's voice cracked, the tears beginning to stream down her face.

"Rory? Princess, what's wrong?"

"Can... can you come to Yale? I... I need to talk to you..." She broke down, shuddering through the last word as her breathing became labored, gulping back the sobs.

"Of course. Now, you just stay right there, little honey. See you in a half hour..."

"Wait. Can... can you come alone? Please don't tell my mom; I don't want her to worry."

She could feel Luke pause, suspicious, but just for a moment until he said, "Sure."

Rory gave a watery smile as she hung up. Good old, dear Luke. If she knew him, he was probably throwing everybody out of the Diner right now and closing early. He would drop everything for her and for her mother, she knew.

* * *

Rory went out to meet Luke's green truck at the campus main entrance, enveloping him in a hug. The welcome sight of him, big and strong, made her run into his arms and break down all over again; she could sense his paternalistic distress heighten.

"What's the matter, honey? What's the matter?" Luke soothingly rumbled.

"Not here," Rory shook her head, and she led him back to her suite. Paris had finally gotten up and left for her afternoon seminar, and Marty had long since dressed and vacated Rory's bed. In here, she was alone with her stepfather-to-be. Quietly, Rory curled up in her bed, patting the spot beside her. Sheepishly, Luke sank down next to her and simply held her as she cried anew, patiently waiting. Whatever needed to be said would be said in due time and course. Rory flashed back to when she was a little girl, in the potting shed at the Inn. Some nights, when her mother was tied down with evening functions, Luke would come by and babysit, reading the little Gilmore girl stories until she fell asleep. The aging Diner owner must have been on a similar thought, for he mused into the silence:

"You're getting a bit big for this."

Rory's head quivered and she snuggled closer, basking in his familiar smell. Luke smirked in bemusement. "I know what you need." Stooping over the bed, he fished around in the _Luke's_ bag he had brought with him, pulling out a tupperware. Rory opened it, accepted the accompanying fork and dug into the white substance. The warmth made her moan.

"Magic mashed potatoes?"

"Your favorite," Luke smiled. "All right then: what is it?"

Rory dared herself to look him in the eye, even as his image swam behind the rush of fresh tears. "I'm pregnant."

Luke gaped, tensing up against her. His eyes flashed dangerously, with a rage Rory had seen only once before. She recognized that rage - it had been in his expression the night of the wedding renewal, as he had followed Christopher's lead in trying to charge at Logan.

"I'm gonna kill him." He started to rise off the bed and Rory followed as he prowled through the suite. "Where is he? What dorm is he in? The little blonde weasel..."

This made Rory take pause, though she shouldn't have been so surprised. "It isn't Logan's."

Luke softened, but only slightly. "Whose is it, then?"

Rory fiddled with her blouse. "His name's Marty. He's my... new boyfriend. We've known each other since freshman year."

Luke stepped closer. "Where is he?"

Rory gawked. "You're not going to kill him, are you?"

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do, young lady!" Luke thunderously snapped. He seemed to forget himself for a moment, but his demeanor still struck Rory dumb. She burst into tears.

"Are you angry with me?"

Luke breathed in deeply. "No..." he got out at last. "It's hard to know what I feel. Disappointed? Yesss..." He drew it out, as if he was still weighing whether or not that was so. "I'm still trying to learn what my place is with you, never mind how I feel..."

Rory smiled weakly. "You're going to be my stepfather. I want you to be honest with me, and with what you feel."

Luke smiled softly, pleased that they had come to an understanding. "Have you told him yet? The father."

Rory shook her head.

"We'll have to tell your mother, too."

"No!" Rory yelped. "Please. Please don't tell her yet."

Luke looked pained. He and Lorelai had just turned the corner beyond a rough patch around the time of the wedding renewal, but that had been due to Emily's machinations more than anything else. "Rory... I can't keep something like that from her. Please don't ask that of me. You know I'll do anything for you, but... please don't make me keep secrets from your mom." He looked tortured, wanting to protect his future stepdaughter but also be honest with his bride.

Rory could sense his discomfort, so she made a brave decision. "You have my permission to tell her. But no one else. Break it to her gently. And let me come to her when I am ready to talk."

Luke accepted the terms. "You got it. Now: I want to meet this boyfriend of yours. And you need to tell him."

Rory nodded, squaring her shoulders. "His class should be letting out just about now. Follow me."

Diner man and student embarked into the sunshine, strolling the campus pathways. As they approached Farnam Hall, Rory spied Marty coming down the steps. He smiled upon seeing her.

"Hey," he pecked her on the lips, but paused when he saw Luke hanging back. "Oh. Is this your father?"

"My _step_ father," Rory corrected, turning back to Luke with love and affection in her eyes, not even bothering to tack on the To-Be at the end. Marty grinned, and shook Luke's hand, his friendly exuberance dimming at how firm and cold Luke was in returning the gesture. The older man appeared grim.

"I have something to tell you," Rory murmured, hustling both Marty and Luke into the privacy of the nearby quad, just off of Phelps Gate. Standing on tiptoes, she whispered in Marty's ear: "I'm pregnant."

Marty drew back in shock, then turned slowly to Luke leaning against the wall. "You know?"

Luke stiffly nodded once in affirmative.

"He's the only one, other than you," Rory explained. She turned back to her lover, eyes searching his. "Do you... want to have it? Because I can get an abortion..." She didn't care about how horrified Emily would be if she knew that might be her granddaughter's choice. As far as Rory was concerned, Emily didn't have to know anything. However, she was unsure how long that could last.

"Whatever makes you happy," Marty expressed sincerely. "But... I've always imagined having children with you."

Rory blushed Harvard crimson and stole a glance at Luke, who now approached and took Marty aside.

"You better treat this little girl like a queen, whatever happens next. If you don't, you will answer to me. And if you don't believe me, just ask that Logan Huntzberger fellow about a certain wedding reception..."

Marty gulped, but nodded. "Yes, sir."

Luke clapped him on the shoulder. "Good man." He turned back to Rory. "You can call me at the Diner to let me know what you decide. Until then..." And he did something he had never done before and kissed Rory on the forehead. She smiled in amusement.

"Love you... Daddy Luke."

He blinked once at her trying this new moniker out on him, but then smiled in acceptance, trying and failing to hide his giddiness. "I love you too, princess."

As Rory watched Luke head for his truck, Marty took her hand, a look of curiosity and amusement on his face. "Princess?"

Rory giggled and blushed. "His pet name for me," she smiled in explanation.

Marty chuckled. "I like him already."


	7. Chapter 7: Gilmore Weddings

**Chapter 7: Gilmore Weddings**

Lorelai stared at her fiance in disbelief. She was still in denial over the words that had just come out of his mouth. The pair were up in her room, in the bed they had shared for months, after a round of mind-blowing sex. Luke was wise to have waited until the afterglow to drop the bomb. There probably was not a better time for him to have broken this news. Then again, was there ever a good time to break news like this?

"P... pregnant? She's pregnant?"

Luke nodded. "It's not the blonde little shit's, though, thankfully. This guy named Marty. I met him. Seems like an upstanding young man."

" _Naked Guy_!" And just for a second, the old Lorelai was back, that playful glint in her eye.

"Huh?" Luke frowned, even though he knew his lover well enough by now to know that he would spend the rest of his life trying to catch up to her brilliant, whirring mind. And a part of him adored her for it.

Lorelai explained. "One of Rory's first nights in the dorms, she found this guy named Marty passed out in her hallway buck naked." She had been the only one whom Rory had told about the incident.

"So they have a history. Great," Luke grumbled. "It's a wonder they didn't go for a roll in the hay right then and there."

Lorelai gasped. "Lucas Danes!" she scolded. "This is my girl we're talking about!"

" _Our_ girl," Luke corrected, pecking her gently on the lips once. Lorelai blinked at his qualification before smiling affectionately. She adored how much Luke loved her daughter. In a way, they had parented Rory together, raised Rory together, so perhaps it had always been written in the stars for them to become a romantic couple. Luke now ventured a thought, one that had been ruminating in his mind the whole drive back from the Yale campus. If there was one thing Luke Danes did well, and Lorelai not nearly as well, it was planning ahead. But, maybe that was one of the ways they complemented each other so famously. "OK. I know you have probably been wondering about how to wire this, but I can help." Rising off the mattress, he began to pace. "First off, we inform the administration at Yale, especially campus health. We have Rory stay in her dorm and attend classes as long as we can. Then, when she's far enough along, we have her move back here, in her room, and she can still do her reading and complete assignments while on bedrest. And meanwhile, you and I commute to Yale every day and audit her classes to make sure she stays caught up! I can take morning classes, you take afternoon classes, or the other way around if it works out better for your schedule. And I know the studying-while-on-bedrest thing may be problematic but either way she is not quitting school! Baby or no baby, this was her dream! I am not going to let her drop out!" He paused in his rant to see Lorelai gazing at him with deep love. "What?"

"Luke, will you marry me?"

Luke's brow furrowed confusedly. "You already asked me that. When we made up, after your parents' ... thing." He never knew what to call the wedding renewal.

"I know," Lorelai beamed. "I mean, will you marry me? Tonight?"

"Now?" Luke gaped.

"Yes, now," and she got up and began throwing on the best dress she could find. "Marry me, Luke. It's now or never! Let's just do it!"

Luke stared at her. Finally: "OK."

Lorelai eyed him, surprised and pleased. "OK?"

"OK. On one condition: we go get Rory. She needs to be present for this. And hey, we need a witness anyway."

Lorelai's eyes gleamed. "I like the way you think." Hurriedly dressing, the couple leapt into Luke's green truck and sped for Yale. It was well past midnight by the time they got there, the campus pathways deserted. Outside Rory's dorm, Lorelai rang her daughter's cell phone. It was the best they could do, as Luke had quickly shot down her suggestion that he scale the dorm walls and break in via Rory's window.

After a couple minutes, said window opened, to reveal a scowling head of blond hair. "Who keeps calling my roommate's phone at 1 in the morning?!" Then, Paris looked down. For all her sheer intimidation, Paris Geller could never be mad at Lorelai. "Lorelai? What are you and the Grunting Fireman doing here?"

"Can you wake Rory up, Paris? It's an emergency!"

Paris sighed. "She's not going to like this..." But she did as Lorelai asked. A second later, a bleary-eyed Rory poked her head out the window.

"What are you _doing_ here?" Rory hissed.

"Get dressed, sweets. We're taking you home."

Rory gulped. So her mother knew, then. She took her time in putting on a simple outfit, knowing the drive back to Stars Hollow would probably not be pleasant.

But when she got downstairs, she was surprised to discover that her mother and future stepfather were both... smiling. "Ready to go to the Chapel of Love?" Lorelai crooned.

Rory frowned. "Huh?"

"We'll explain on the way," Luke growled, even as his eyes twinkled in an unusual display of mirth.

Speeding down the highway, Rory squealed at the news. "You're getting married?! Now?!"

"Yeah, if we can kidnap the Reverend and Rabbi," Lorelai cracked, even though she was quite serious.

"On it," Luke whipped out his cell phone and placed a short, cryptic call.

"Who was that?" the girls asked.

"Wait and see," their diner man smirked.

By the time Luke's truck rolled into the Town Square, there was a small group of four men standing by the gazebo. Kirk came running up as Luke rolled down the window.

"I did it, Luke! I might have broken Reverend Skinner's window, but I did it."

"Good work, Kirk," Luke grunted.

Taylor Dosse came bustling up, shaking his head and already looking thoroughly annoyed. "Lucas, this is highly unorthodox, young man! We don't do elopements here!"

"What did you wake him up for?" Lorelai whispered to her soon-to-be husband.

"Oh, just to piss him off." Luke's deadpan sent Rory into a fit of giggles.

Reverend Skinner and Rabbi Barans, still looking half-asleep and in their pajamas, officiated the thrown-together wedding through several yawns. Taylor stood by, peeved as he was, and despite Luke's best efforts, Kirk refused to be shooed away. In the end, he was allowed to stay because two witnesses were better than one.

Luke and Lorelai were pronounced husband and wife and they chastely kissed to applause, Rory dutifully, Taylor begrudgingly. Rory, Kirk and even Taylor all signed off as witnesses. Finally, the new Gilmore-Danes family returned to the Crap Shack at Number 37, Maple Street and fell asleep. Luke would make sure to return his new stepdaughter to campus in the morning.

* * *

A few weeks later, the Gilmore Girls had their traditional Friday Night Dinner with Rory's grandparents. This time, however, Lorelai invited Luke along, and after some coordination, talked Rory into roping in Marty. Tonight was going to be a big night, and Lorelai only hoped it would go over well with Richard and Emily. It probably wouldn't.

The meal started off pleasantly enough. Richard and Emily fondly remembered Marty from meeting him at the Yale tailgate the previous year. They asked their granddaughter and her friend about their classes and campus events they were involved in. Rory went on and on about the Yale Daily News.

Finally, Lorelai decided to get it over with, in the most casual way possible. Truth be told, a part of her was hoping that Emily wouldn't notice. She squeezed Luke's hand affectionately under the table. "Can you get me a refill, husband of mine?" making her voice amusingly dramatic.

"Sure," Luke kissed her temple and left the room, while Lorelai finally replaced her wedding ring on her finger, now for all to see. Emily gaped, her chicken fricassee halfway to her mouth.

"Lorelai? When on _earth_ did you get married?"

"In the dead of night," Lorelai hissed with relish. "We kidnapped the reverend and the rabbi and Rory from Yale."

"Oh, be serious for once in your life!" Emily scoffed, though her eyes appeared twinged with fear.

"I _am_ being serious, Mom. Luke and I eloped."

Emily looked like she was about to have a heart attack on the spot. She spluttered for a second, two, before finally turning to her husband, at a loss. "Richard!"

"Lorelai," her father asked in as measured a voice as he could. "When exactly did this wedding take place?"

"A month ago," Lorelai maintained the casualness, almost flippancy, to her tone.

" _A month ago?!_ " Emily shrieked. She rounded on Rory. "And you _knew_ about this?"

"Five minutes before-hand, but yes, Grandma. I was a witness." And Rory smiled proudly.

Emily seemed close to bursting into tears. "You were supposed to have a long engagement..." she almost whimpered. "I was going to plan everything..."

Rory chose this moment to force the conversation to move on. And she knew just how to do it. It had been agreed upon that a full-court press was the only course of action, and damn the consequences. "Well, while we're on the subject of earth-shattering news... I'm pregnant."

It was now uncertain if Emily was frozen where she sat. Finally, she shook her head. "If this is some kind of a... _practical joke_ , you two, it is _not_ funny!"

"I quite agree," Richard concurred firmly.

"It isn't a joke, Grandma," Rory said quietly. "I'm going to have a baby, and Marty is the father." She nodded across the table to her boyfriend, who sat a little straighter in his seat, as if that might make him more presentable. Rory had to appreciate his bravery for even agreeing to come here at all; she had briefed him on the plan while driving to Hartford from campus, and he had readily agreed to it.

"And we're getting married," Marty added, deciding to light the fuse to the last bomb himself. He took Rory's hand.

It is unknown how long the silence permeated the dining room. In the interim, Luke returned to the table with his wife's drink. But, at last, the bombs all seemed to go off at once, in slow motion, as Emily finally lost it.

"Lord, take me away. What have I done to deserve this?" the Gilmore matriarch moaned. "They're too young! For... _any_ of it! But _especially_ getting married!"

Lorelai couldn't help it. She burst into offended laughter. "Do you even hear yourself, Mom? What a hypocrite! 20 years ago, you were all ready to marry me off to Christopher... when we were sixteen!"

Emily spluttered, caught in the intellectual trap that oh so easily befalls some people, mostly Republicans.

Richard tried to admirably salvage what little he could by turning to his granddaughter and attempting to remain calm. "Rory, don't you think getting married is something you should discuss with your father?"

"I have," and Rory beamed lovingly at Luke.

"Your _father_ , Rory, not your... _step_ father," Emily scoffed.

"Luke was fine with it. I asked his permission," Marty offered up. "What were your exact words again, Luke?"

"Treat her well and be faithful, or I will hunt you down and kill you," Luke recited.

"See?" Rory grinned. "Christopher doesn't need to have a say in this."

"Rory!" Richard barked. "What a thing to say! He's your father!"

"No, _he_ is," and Rory pointed to Luke; for the first time, there was an edge to her voice. "Luke has been there for me from the time I was small. He's the first person I told about my pregnancy. Dad has never been around for me. I will send him an invitation to the wedding, send him a letter to tell him about the baby, but beyond that, Christopher doesn't have a right to be involved!"

"This is all your fault!" Emily seethed to Lorelai. "Raising her as you did, letting her romp around ridiculously! She's... she's just like you!"

Lorelai shook her head, regarding her mother almost sadly. "No. She's better."

Emily was speechless, struck dumb. "You're... you're her mother! Stop her! Say no to this ridiculous engagement!"

"It is Rory's choice," Lorelai said simply. "And I will love her and support her in that choice. As will Luke."

"You're damn right I will," Luke growled.

"I think we'd better go," Lorelai said, and rounding everyone up, they left the mansion. Rory hung back, for just a moment, to tell her grandparents, "I really hope you'll come to my wedding."

* * *

The rest of the spring semester at Yale went by. By the time of move-out in May, Rory had still not started showing. By August, however, that scenario would change, whereupon Rory would tell her closest friends, with Paris at the top of the list.

That summer, invitations to Rory's wedding were sent out. It would be held at the Dragonfly Inn, with many of Lorelai's colleagues chipping in to help their boss foot the bill. Luke had accepted Rory's heartfelt request to walk her down the aisle, after which the bride sent a letter and invitation to her father, Christopher, explaining everything. Several days letter, he replied, shocked but promising to support Rory in whatever she wanted. He even seemed to accept Luke giving Rory away. His only request was to meet Marty before the nuptials; after some debate, both Rory and Marty agreed.

The whole of Stars Hollow jammed the ceremony, marveling at how Rory was getting married so young. No one outside of the family knew of Rory's pregnancy. Paris Geller, however, was not so easily fooled, connecting the dots and bluntly asking Rory just before the ceremony, "Are you knocked up?"

Stunned at how she figured it out, Rory silently nodded.

"Well, I'd rather it was Woody Boyd than Airhead Blondie Huntzberger."

"Did you just make a _Cheers_ reference? Up top, Paris! You've got some serious game!" Lorelai high-fived her daughter's Maid of Honor, as she finished doing up Rory's hair.

The wedding finally stared, with Luke trying not to burst into tears as he escorted his stepdaughter down the aisle. Glancing at all the faces of the people who loved her, Rory broke into a huge, relieved grin when she saw her grandparents, sitting in the front row. Her wedding invitation to them had gone unanswered, with no RSVP, to the point that Rory had given up hope they would be coming. However, Emily had contacted Lorelai several days prior to the ceremony and asked if there was still room for two more. Lorelai had agreed, and also promised to let her parents surprise Rory.

As they had with her mother, Reverend Skinner and Rabbi Barans jointly officiated. Taylor had written a speech, but Luke had pushed it back to the reception and made the Town Selectman heavily edit it. Upon the final pronouncement, Rory and Marty shyly kissed like two kids in love as everyone applauded.

Only then did Luke finally break down into sobs, not even minding that a weepy Kirk took the initiative to console him.


	8. Chapter 8: Married Student Housing

**Chapter 8: Married Student Housing**

"Welcome back to Yale! Name, please?"

"Rory Gilmore... I mean, Rory Wilcox." Rory corrected herself with a bashful smile.

The check-in attendant looked over the application papers. "Ah, yes. Congratulations on your wedding. We have you and your husband in Married Student Housing. It's the first building off of Phelps Gate."

"Thanks a lot," Marty nodded appreciatively over his wife's shoulder. "Come on, honey." Taking Rory's hand, he guided her towards their new building, doing his best to ignore the gawking onlookers. Although he did revel in the sight of Logan Huntzberger's stunned face, just a little bit. Colin and Finn's reactions alone were priceless. Following her husband's gaze, Rory grinned and flashed her wedding ring at them, flaunting it. It was hard to believe she had once run with their crowd, but Rory now viewed the experience as a critical step of growth for her.

Paris Geller met them at the building, having already volunteered to help her married friends move in. Rory gave her a warm, grateful hug.

"How was the honeymoon?"

"Just got off the plane a few days ago," Marty set down his one suitcase to give Paris a one-armed squeeze. He wasn't as intimidated by her anymore, hardly flinching when the blonde battle-axe suddenly barked at a gaping first year, "Move along, creep! She's pregnant, not a leper! This isn't a strip club!" Sharp-tongued as Paris could be, Marty now understood much of it came from a place of protectiveness, particularly where Rory was concerned.

"Luke's following in the truck; he's trying to park as close as he can," Rory explained. "But:" and she tried to hoist off the ground a mattress that Marty had carried over his shoulder. "You can start with this."

"Don't over-exert yourself," Marty chided.

"Darling, I love you. You are my light and my life, but if you say that to me one more time, I will castrate you where you stand," Rory threatened in an overly sweet voice. Paris raised one eyebrow; even _she_ wasn't that cold.

"Those are some hella hormones you got there, Gilmore."

Rory shrugged, ignoring her husband's ashen face, along with the increasingly foreign use of her maiden name. "Comes with the territory." Then, feeling bad in the next moment, she kissed her husband deeply in apology. "Let's go inside."

Luke arrived soon after, finally deciding to ride his truck up onto the curb, even though it was illegal. "If we move fast, maybe the campus cops won't fry me, princess," as he began to shuttle the bed frame and other heavy items into the apartment as quick as he could.

"Don't worry, Luke; the Yale feds aren't that strict," Marty assured him.

Lorelai soon joined the fray, bringing in smaller items in between her blatant admiration of her husband's body as he continued to do most of the heavy lifting. In a little under than two hours, the apartment was outfitted. Lorelai and Luke said a long goodbye to Rory, even hugging Marty enthusiastically. Paris also slipped away, promising to Rory, "I'm in the building right next door if you need anything."

"Man, does she plan really well," Marty observed dryly, impressed to hear that Paris had selected her suite's location for the sole purpose of keeping an eye on her pregnant friend.

At last, the couple was alone. In the homely silence of the apartment, Rory eyed her husband with a shy smile.

"So."

"So," Marty grinned, pleased as Rory sashayed closer, playing with the buttons on his shirt as she cutely flirted.

"Whatcha wanna do tonight?"

"I'll give you my suggestion if you give me yours," her husband challenged.

Rory eyed him. "It's too soon for Duck Soup, Marty."

He laughed. "Fair enough. What did you have in mind?"

"I can think of a few things." And grabbing him by the collar, Rory dragged her husband over to their new bed and tackled him. Impishly straddling him, she began to undress him. "Make love to me. I want you..."

Marty smirked. "Those are some hella hormones you got there, Gilmore."

"Haven't you heard? I changed my name. You might wanna start using it."

"I'll send Paris the memo." Marty captured Rory's lips in a deep kiss as they began to make love...

* * *

As the fall semester progressed, Rory checked in weekly to Student Health to monitor the extent of her pregnancy. By late September, she was ordered onto bedrest, with Marty getting notes from her classes to bring home to her. Sometimes, her husband went and sat in on her classes in addition to attending his own.

Luke and Lorelai (well, mostly Luke) called almost every day, wanting to hear every little detail about how Rory was faring. When she once confessed to having contractions, her stepfather panicked and immediately drove straight to Yale, sitting with her for hours until Marty returned late into the night from the library. He felt bad when he had to gently kick Luke out.

"Daddy Luke was just trying to protect me," Rory explained sweetly as she read from her Media Studies textbook one crisp fall evening, not far out from Halloween. She winced once when she felt the baby kick.

"You OK?" Marty called over his shoulder from the kitchen, sensing his wife's discomfort even as he fixed dinner.

Rory didn't answer, instead suddenly screaming as a wave of contractions sent her perilously close to tumbling off the double bed. In a haze, she all at once felt soaked, like fluid was coating her.

"Rory!" Marty sprang to her side. Rory could only look up into his eyes, gazes locking. All she said was:

"Call Mom and Luke."

* * *

It was a frantic departure off of campus and to Temple Medical Center, and yet Marty somehow had the presence of mind to round up Paris from the building next door. It took both her and Marty's strength to lift an in-labor Rory into the car, with Paris all the while screeching at a terrified Marty that he wasn't lifting hard enough. He figured he made the right choice when he asked Paris to drive.

En route, Marty called Christopher, Rory's father, at her prompting, telling him to get down from Boston as quick as he could. The call was nearly interrupted by a frantic Luke dialing in, as he sped with Lorelai from Stars Hollow.

Screaming to a stop in front of Temple Medical Center, paramedics and a gurney descended on the car, depositing Rory onto it and rolling her back, picking up the pace as Paris yelled at them to move faster. Exhausted, she and Marty collapsed into the waiting room.

All that could be done now was wait.

* * *

Hours had passed. Christopher Hayden paced the waiting room worriedly, growing increasingly agitated over the fact that there was no word. It was a wonder he had made it the 2 and a half hours from Boston in one piece.

Passing by him in the opposite direction, Luke Danes also paced. It had been the middle of the dinner rush when Marty had called the Diner in a panic, prompting Luke to shut down the diner and roar at everyone to get out in the next minute, or they wouldn't get their free coffee. His scary demeanor, complemented by the enticing bribe, did the trick, even on Kirk, though Lorelai had needed to gently decline when the crazy entrepreneur asked to tag along. Hearing his cell ring, Luke flew it to his ear.

"Hello? Marty... Marty? What's happening; you're breaking up - Damn it! What kind of signal strength do they have back there?"

"You should have asked Paris to bellow from down the hall. It's more reliable," Lorelai mused, her lips in a tight frown as she fretted, getting up from her seat, then sitting down, then getting up again. If her husband was fidgety, she was downright antsy.

Christopher had finally had enough, rounding on the on-duty nurse at the front desk. "Can't you tell us anything? I'm her father! I deserve to be back there!"

"No more than me!" Luke leapt to his side in a challenge.

The nurse tried to follow protocol, clinically replying, "Blood relations are only permitted back after the delivery..."

"Who writes your policies?" Christopher demanded. "I was _in the room_ when my daughter was born!"

"You're thinking of your _other_ daughter," Luke corrected him in a dry deadpan. "From what I've been told, when Rory was born, you never showed up."

Affronted, Christopher got right in his former rival's face. "You really wanna do this now?"

"Hit me with your best shot, James Dean..."

"STOP IT!" Lorelai's scream reached them at nearly the same time that she physically did, yanking them apart. "We will all get to go back there when they say it's time! Now both of you will get a grip, or so help me God, I will yank off both of your tiny balls and send you both home! _Understand_?!"

Gaping, her husband and the father of her child slowly nodded. Even so, Luke couldn't help but snigger at Christopher's expense. "You've got tiny balls," he needled him.

"Shut up," Christopher glowered.

"If we're _done_ comparing sizes!" Lorelai snapped a little too loudly, finally shutting them both up.

A nurse now came back from the ward. "Rory Gilmore's family..."

"Oh, thank the Lord... out of my way!" Christopher barreled through the ward door before it had fully closed, not even bothering to hear the rest of the nurse's sentence.

"Right behind you!" Luke charged after him.

"Oh my God, Chris! Luke!" a mortified Lorelai had no choice but to dither behind them.

Spying Paris through one window, Christopher and Luke burst into the correct room to find Rory in stirrups, with big, fat ankles and swearing like a sailor on leave. Even so, her eyes stung with tears, her face scrunched up in pain.

Christopher and Luke took sentinel places on either side of Rory, holding her hands as Marty cradled his wife's head in his lap.

"Daddy, please! Help me! Just take this pain away! Take it aw-a-a-a-y..." Rory wept, not even bothering to differentiate between Christopher and Luke as she blindly called for her 'Daddy.'

Christopher looked slightly sick. "What's wrong with her? Is she out of it?"

"It's the drugs, most likely," Paris offered up quietly from where she was leaning against the wall.

The doctor now arrived, appearing only momentarily fazed that there were unauthorized guests present. "All right, Mrs. Wilcox, when I give the word, I need you to push."

Marty kissed his wife's sweaty forehead. "Come on, Rory, you can do it! I love you so much!"

"Just push, kid," Christopher encouraged.

"Come on, princess..." Luke soothed.

"PUSH!" Rory growled in agony as she began to exert all her effort into getting that baby out. Lorelai tenderly stroked her daughter's hair through it all.

"You're doing so well, sweets... _so well_... I was worse with you..."

It took many long hours, deep into the night, but at last, the baby's head was crowning. With one last huge push, Rory slid the baby out. The squalling infant girl was quickly whisked away to be cleaned after Marty cut the umbilical cord. Within a few minutes, the baby was brought back.

Rory took her daughter lovingly into her arms. "Hi! How are you?" she cooed. "Daddy and I have been waiting to meet you..."

That's when Christopher lost all control, turning into an absolute puddle as huge sobs were wracked from him. Surprisingly, Luke was the one to actually give the other man a hug and try to calm him down. "Get it out... let it all out..." He chanced a glance at Lorelai who was watching the sight with both shock and deep bemusement. "He's fine, he's fine..."

"Would you like to hold her, Paris?" Rory called to her best friend.

For the first time in probably her entire life, Paris Geller seemed to have lost the ability to speak. She approached the bed almost in a trance, cradling the infant at Rory's encouragement.

"Lorelai Paris Gilmore," Rory pronounced proudly.

Now Paris almost fell over. "You're naming her after _me_?"

"You're her godmother," Rory shrugged. "If you want to be."

Paris broke into a huge, genuine grin. "I'd be honored!"


	9. Chapter 9: Young Family Life

**Chapter 9: Young Family Life**

The baby gurgled as Rory bounced her in her arms, while trying to simultaneously cook dinner with her other hand.

"It's almost time for your nap..." Rory crooned. "And then, Mommy can finally start writing that paper..." She glanced back to the laptop on her desk nervously.

It was Rory and Marty's senior year. Their daughter, Laurie, was just shy of turning a year old, and remarkably, Rory was still on track to graduate with her husband and the rest of her Class of 2007.

The key turned in the lock as Marty stepped into the apartment. "Honey, I'm home!"

"Over here," Rory called from the kitchen, greeting her husband with a kiss. "Did Lab treat you OK?"

Marty sighed and shrugged. "It's Lab. It goes late, and it's long."

Rory shook her head as she passed Laurie to Marty, then transferred the chicken from the skillet onto plates. "Why does your professor schedule it for the evenings? Does he _want_ you to pull an all-nighter every night?"

"You would think not," Marty threw up his hands. He had long ago given up on understanding the minds of his teachers when it came to things like scheduling. He huffed out a long breath. "Eight more months."

Rory smiled and nodded, seeing the finish line within reach in her mind's eye. "Eight more months." Their little family was ready to get going with life, and raise Laurie somewhere that was not a college campus. The trio ate dinner, Rory pausing between bites to feed Laurie and tap away the first few paragraphs of her French Lit paper on her computer.

"Did your Justice and the Family seminar go all right?" Marty asked.

"It's like it's describing my life!" Rory cracked. Marty smirked at the inside joke. "But I'm learning other great tips too: finances, the benefits and drawbacks to daycare..."

"All good things," her husband approved. "We'll be delving into that even more come May." He paused. "And how was the rest of my girls' day?"

"Laurie has been such a great girl, haven't you, precious?" Rory murmured. "My mom called: Daddy Luke wants to build an extension on the house. For the baby."

Marty gawped. "And us?"

"Yeah, all of us," Rory glanced up from her plate.

"Just a guestroom, I hope."

"I'm pretty sure that's what he's thinking. Although, if Mom has her way, we'll soon be living there full time."

Marty laughed. "You know I love your mother, but I can only take her in small doses." He rose and rinsed his dishes, kissing his wife as he crossed to the kitchen island. "I gotta start writing that lab report. I'll be over on our bed."

Rory wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Would you like... some _company_?" And she tried to grab at him. Marty dodged, chuckling.

"Later, if you behave. Wait till our girl's asleep."

Rory mock-pouted, but pecked his lips once in approval. "All right. I love you!"

"Love you too, babe," Marty beamed.

In four short years, Rory and Marty had gone from classmates to friends to lovers to husband and wife to parents sharing a child. All before graduation. What a life they had! And neither of them could wait to see what was coming next...


End file.
